


Over the Edge

by sffan



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sffan/pseuds/sffan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aya tips over the edge after seeing Yohji in an unexpected light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is from a previous archive, written between 2002 and 2008. No additional changes or edits have been made since it’s original posting date and none will be. 
> 
> Original Notes:  
> Big thanks to emungere for the beta and the title.

Aya curses under his breath as he gets out of his car. He curses Omi and Ken; Omi for being too young to be sent on this wild goose chase, Ken for flat out refusing to go. He curses Manx for demanding that someone go fetch Yohji from whatever bar he was currently in, but most of all, he curses goddamn fucking Kudoh Yohji for not being in the last five bars he’s checked.

His scowling face intimidates the bouncer at the current bar so much that the 6’5” mountain of muscle doesn’t even try to stop him from walking into the club. Aya pushes his way through the crowd to the bar – no Yohji. Aya curses some more; curses that stop cold on his lips when he turns towards the dance floor and sees his objective.

Yohji has one arm flung over the shoulder of a gorgeous young man who is pressed tightly against him, apparently trying to perform a tonsillectomy on Yohji with his tongue. His twin, identical in every way, is plastered against Yohji’s back, grinding his hips against Yohji’s ass. Yohji writhes enthusiastically between them.

Aya makes a conscious effort to close his mouth and walks straight towards the trio, growling at the few people who don’t get out of his way fast enough.

“Kudoh,” he says, when he’s standing beside them.

Yohji breaks out of the kiss and slowly opens his eyes. His pupils are huge. “Ayyyya,” he purrs, reaching for Aya. “Join us. This is Shinji.” He strokes his free hand along the ass of the man still pressed to his front. “And this is Kiyoshi,” he continues and grinds his hips backward into the groin of the man behind him. He pauses for a moment. “Or maybe the other way around,” he giggles.

“Fucking hell, Kudoh, you’re stoned out of your head,” Aya says in disgust, avoiding the hand. The twins ignore Aya and continue to feel Yohji up, hands slithering over his tight clothing.

Yohji merely giggles again and arches his neck so that one of the men can suck on his throat.

Aya grabs Yohji by the arm and yanks him away from the men. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Leaving? Why? I just got here,” Yohji says swaying. He grins a wicked grin and glances back at the twins, who are now dancing provocatively with each other. “I was having fun.”

Aya’s hand tightens on Yohji’s arm. “I don’t give a fuck. I was sent out here to fucking get you, and now I’ve got you. So shut the hell up and come on.”

“At least let me say good-bye. I wouldn’t want to be rude…”

Aya sighs and lets Yohji go, knowing he’ll have to listen to him whine all the way back to the Koneko otherwise. Yohji goes back to the twins, and they embrace him once again. The kisses get longer and more passionate as the minutes pass, with no sign of ending. Aya curses again and grabs Yohji’s arm tightly enough to make the other man wince.

He drags Yohji out of the club, elbowing their way through the crowd and shoves him towards his car. Yohji stumbles and falls against the door. Aya pushes him out of the way, slaps at the hand that reaches for him, and unlocks the door. He opens it and gestures.

“Get in,” he says curtly.

Yohji ducks under Aya’s arm and sits down hard, feet still outside of the car. He leans forward and presses his face against Aya’s groin, hands sliding up Aya’s thighs.

Aya grabs a double handful of Yohji’s hair and pulls his head away hard.

“Oh, God, yes,” Yohji hisses, his pupils dilating even further, and he clutches harder at Aya’s thighs.

“Stop it right fucking now, Kudoh,” Aya grinds out between clenched teeth. “Or I’ll break your hands.”

Yohji lets go and barely gets his legs inside the car before Aya slams the door. With his back to the window, Aya takes a deep breath, digging his fingers into his palms until his knuckles go white from the pressure. He exhales loudly and then walks around the hood of the car and gets in.

Aya starts the car and pulls out. He waits for Yohji to start babbling at him. It doesn’t happen. Aya steals a glance at Yohji and finds that he has become fascinated by nap of his suede pants. He rubs his fingers back and forth and around, making patterns and erasing them with his palm, a look of wonderment on his face. Glad for the silence, Aya doesn’t disturb him.

Yohji manages to get out of the car and into the Koneko with little guidance, but frowns and says, “What?” when Aya steers him to the stairs leading into the mission room.

“You think I was kidding when I told you I was ordered to fetch you? Manx is downstairs.”

“Really?” Yohji grins and starts to smooth down his clothes.

Aya rolls his eyes and lets Yohji precede him down the stairs.

“It’s about time, Abyssinian,” Manx says from her position on the couch. “I was starting to think you two had run off together.” Omi and Ken exchange a look and stifle laughs that stop abruptly when Aya scowls at them. “We went through the briefing without you. Bombay can fill you in.”

“Manx, my sweet,” Yohji says, plopping down next to her on the couch and slithering an arm around her shoulders.

“Balinese, you’re intoxicated,” Manx says, shrugging off his arm and standing up. She turns to Aya. “He’s completely useless like this. I’m very disappointed.”

“I told you it was a waste of time,” Aya answers.

“Hey, stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Yohji pipes up from where he’s sprawled on the couch. Ken pushes his head off his shoulder in annoyance.

“Shut up, Yohji,” Aya grinds out from between clenched teeth.

“I expect you to have better control of your team, Abyssinian,” Manx says coolly, tugging on the edge of her jacket.

“Excuse me? He’s a grown man, if he wants to kill what few brain cells he has and fuck anything that won’t run away from him, it’s not my problem.”

“They never run,” Yohji says quietly from the couch, ignored by everyone.

“It’s your problem now,” Manx replies. “You’ve now lost a day on this mission. I expect results by the day after tomorrow.”

“What?” Omi squeaks, clutching the mission package. “Manx we can’t, that’s not enough time.”

“I’m sorry, Bombay, it’s out of my control,” Manx says, her voice softening for a moment. It immediately hardens again. “Good night, gentlemen.” She turns and heads up the stairs.

“Way to go Kudoh,” Ken mutters, getting up. Yohji just flops down onto the couch and sprawls. Within moments he’s asleep. With a look of disgust on his face, Aya starts up the stairs.

“What about Yohji?” Omi asks with a worried frown.

“Leave him,” Aya growls and continues up the stairs.

* * *

The mission is difficult, but they manage to complete it successfully with a few minor scrapes and bruises. Aya enters the Koneko before everyone and disappears up to his room.

“What the hell is his problem?” Ken asks. “He’s been a total bastard all week.”

“I don’t know, Ken. But I’d stay out of his way if I were you,” Omi says.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” Ken replies.

Neither of them notices Yohji bounding up the stairs. He lingers in the hallway, waiting for Aya’s door to open, knowing that Aya will be heading for the shower. He steps out at just the right moment, and Aya runs into him.

“Fuck!” Aya exclaims and shoves Yohji. “Get the fuck out of my way Kudoh.”

Yohji stands his ground. “What the hell is up your ass, Aya?”

“I told you to get out of my way,” Aya says, giving Yohji his full glare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Yohji’s eyebrows raise and then a smirk spreads across his face. “So that’s your problem. Heh. Never figured you for the jealous type.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Aya says, his eyes narrowing.

Yohji moves in and says in a low voice, “I may have been fucked up the other night, Aya, but I do remember everything. You were hard. Hard as fucking steel. I just wish you’d told me you went for guys, I’d have made a pass ages ago.” Yohji leers at him.

Aya figures he has two choices – kiss him or kill him. He’s almost as surprised as Yohji when he grabs him by the head and kisses him so hard they both stumble into the wall. Blindly, they lurch into Yohji’s room and fall heavily onto the bed. They pull and tug at each other’s clothes until they’re a pile on the floor and they’re skin to skin.

Aya gives Yohji one last bruising kiss and then flips him over and lies on top of him. He nips hard at Yohji’s shoulder, leaving teeth marks. He reaches for the bedside table drawer and pulls it out, dumping the contents on the floor. Still pressing Yohji against the mattress, he scoops up what he needs. He spends less than a minute preparing Yohji, before he slips on a condom and then impales Yohji in one hard thrust that makes the other man cry out sharply.

Aya almost stops, but then Yohji groans and pushes back onto Aya’s cock, rising up onto his hands and knees. “Fuck me, Fujimiya. C’mon, do it.” Aya grabs Yohji’s hips firmly and begins to thrust, hard and deep. Yohji cries out in pleasure, begging for more, deeper, harder, and Aya loses any control he had. He pounds into Yohji over and over again, pulling him back onto his cock with each forward thrust.

Yohji arches into every thrust, his breath being forced out of his body in short, desperate gasps. Aya reaches around Yohji’s hip and begins to jack him in time with his thrusts. It doesn’t take long before Yohji’s gasps take on a sharper edge and suddenly, his body stiffens in Aya’s arms and he comes hard. Yohji goes limp, and Aya follows him down to the mattress, humping harder into the pliant flesh. Moaning Yohji’s name, Aya holds him down by the arms and fucks him harder, hips slamming into the curve of his ass, Yohji writhing under him, until finally, Aya comes so hard he sees white lights flashing behind his eyes.

He collapses on top of Yohji for a few moments, but then he pulls out, and rolls away. He removes the condom, letting it drop from lifeless fingers onto the floor, and then he curls up on his side, knees drawn up, face buried in his hands. Yohji reaches out and strokes his hand down Aya’s back. Aya flinches away from the touch.

“Aya? It’s okay,” Yohji says calmly and rests his hand on Aya’s back.

“No it’s not,” Aya says in a cracked voice. “I can’t. I shouldn’t. I…”

“Shhhh. It’s all right,” Yohji murmurs and coaxes Aya into his arms. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” Yohji kisses Aya so softly, so tenderly, that something brittle and sharp inside Aya breaks. He closes his eyes against the sudden tears. Yohji merely kisses them away. “Besides, you think being with me is going to be a picnic, kid?” Yohji says, drawing Aya closer, cradling his head against his chest. “I’m a complete slut, you know. I’m bound to stray. You’re going to have to work to keep me in line. Don’t think of this as a good thing, think of it as some kind of karmic punishment.”

Aya can’t help himself, he smiles against Yohji’s chest. Yohji runs his fingers through Aya’s hair and down his back. Soon the soothing fingers and the slow, steady rhythm of Yohji’s heartbeat lull Aya to sleep.


End file.
